


It's Not You, It's Me

by belovedhell



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Not Related, Angst with a Happy Ending, Boyfriends, Breaking Up & Making Up, Dating, Dean Apologizes, Hurt Sam, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Regret, Sabotage, Some Humor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-12
Updated: 2017-10-12
Packaged: 2019-01-16 09:00:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,027
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12339561
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/belovedhell/pseuds/belovedhell
Summary: Everything was going perfect between Sam and Dean, and then it wasn't...





	It's Not You, It's Me

**Author's Note:**

> Swesson time! I had this one in my files and decided to edit it since it was mostly done. I don't remember what I was thinking when I wrote this at that time, but I probably wanted angst. Anyways, I have writer's block so I might be slow this month. Sigh. No inspiration yet. Comments and Kudos are lovely and appreciated.

Sam hummed as he cleaned the apartment. His boyfriend, Dean Smith, was working in his study, leaving Sam alone in the living room. To distract himself, Sam decided that the room's furniture needed a new arrangement. He tried to move everything quietly, careful not to cause loud noise that would interrupt Dean.

As he finished, Sam smiled, now there was room to move around. Before, everything was all clustered together, and it bothered Sam. When Sam moved into Dean's apartment two years ago, he was amazed by the size of his home— not to mention how modern it was in the inside. Dean had made space for Sam in his bedroom and even went out shopping to buy any more materials they needed.

Everything seemed perfect... until Dean started to come home late.

Sam didn't think much of it because when he met Dean he was a very busy man. Instead he gave Dean massages and made him dinner, in a way to give him his support that Sam was right beside him.

Maybe it wasn't enough.

Dean had been distant lately, usually on his phone or working on files that he took from his office. Sam tried to talk to Dean every time, but every conversation ended with the same thing. "You're imagining things, Sam" or "My boss doesn't trust anyone other than me." None of those words were assuring to Sam.

He sighed. Then Sam heard Dean grumbling in the hallway, as he stepping into the living room, he halted. Whatever expression he had before was long gone, because now he wore a blank face.

"You moved everything..." Dean deadpanned, frowning, as he scanned the room.

"Yeah. I thought this would be better. You don't like it?" Sam's lips curved down, he recognized Dean's tone from a mile away. "I can move everything back."

"No." Dean let out an exasperated sigh. "Forget it. I'm going back to my study to finish the paperwork," with that being said, Dean left. Sam bit his lip. He didn't mean to piss Dean off.

* * *

The following morning, Sam made Dean a different cup of coffee with milk and sugar.  _In_   _it_. That was the last straw for Dean. Sam could change whatever the fuck he wanted in the condo, but the coffee? That's where Dean drew the line. He liked his coffee black and sugar-free every morning. Not whatever Sam was giving him.

Dean sat Sam down, and with a firm tone he told Sam  _I'm breaking up with you_ , giving the whole common cliche  _it's not you, it's me_  speech.

Sam cried and tried to fix their relationship but Dean's decision was made up. Sam took his belongings and left. It hurt.

It took two days for Sam to find a place.

He found the cheapest apartments across town, rent was reasonable, but everything was fucking old. Sam had to suck it up for a while. He didn't think about love ever again— at least— until he saw Dean months later, standing in front of him in the middle of the sidewalk.

"Sam, hey," Dean greeted with a warm smile that Sam secretly missed. No. Sam mentally shook his head. He had moved on already. It had been four aching months since the break up. Dean made it clear that he didn't want Sam anymore. He was not falling for this.

"Dean," Sam forced himself to say. "It's been a while."  _Since you last dumped me,_  Sam mentally finished. "Sorry to cut this short but I have a job interview to go to." Sam applied to a company as a data entry job. He prayed the job would be his because he couldn't handle working in retail stores anymore.

"Really? That's great!" Dean sounded genuine. "Listen, Sam... I was wondering if—"

Sam cut him off before he could continue, "Look. I know you want to be friends and all, Dean, but I can't handle that right now, okay?" There was no point of being nice to him. "You broke my heart. And honestly? I kinda hate you right now. I don't know how you can be standing there with a big smile on your face. Because I really want to fucking deck you," Sam scowled.

Dean was dumbfounded. "Sam, I—"

"Goodbye, Dean." Sam spun around and walked away from him with his head held high. That felt good.

* * *

As he entered his apartment, Sam tossed his keys on the counter and sat on his couch. It had been a long day. All Sam wanted to do was sleep. Just when he was about to shut his eyes, a knock startled him.

Sighing, he opened the door and blinked when he saw a huge bouquet of flowers. His  _favorite_. Tulips.

"Sam Wesson?" the delivery guy said somewhere from behind.

"That's me." Sam barely got a good grip of the vase when the guy thrust the flowers towards him.

"Sign here, sir." He offered his pen and held the clipboard out.

Sam couldn't see the guy since the flowers were blocking his view. Instead he just grabbed the pen and signed, hopefully, the correct papers. Once the delivery guy left, Sam closed the door and placed the bouquet on the counter, observing them. They smelled wonderful: a hint of sweetness and relaxing scent.

Plucking the gift card with a smile, Sam took out the card, only to frown when he saw that they were from Dean. Of course. He should have known. Who else would send Sam something?

_I got you your favorites, Sammy. I know how much you love tulips. Enjoy, love Dean._

Sam crumbled the card and tossed it to the trash. He was debating on throwing everything altogether, but when he took one glance at the flowers. He deflated. The flowers didn't do anything wrong. They actually made him happy.

"Okay. You can stay," Sam smiled as he sniffed the flowers. He forgot what it was like to get gifts from Dean. The last gift Sam got from him was a stainless steel watch— which he had stopped wearing since.

* * *

Sam headed to a restaurant, dressed in fancy suit with a rose in his hand. He had a date with a nice girl named Jessica that he met online. Her profile picture was adorable, and not only that but they had a lot of stuff in common: movies, humor, and computers. He was really excited to start dating again. Sam could finally move on and—

Why was Dean talking to his date?  _Scratch that_. Why was Dean in the restaurant to begin with? Of course Sam didn't own the restaurant, but couldn't Dean go to another one where Sam couldn't see him or talk to his date. Sam refrained himself from getting angry. He could just ask Dean politely to leave.

Forcing a smile, Sam walked to them and said, "Jessica... and Dean! What a pleasant surprise?" the last question was directed towards Dean as Sam narrowed his eyes.

"Sammy, Hey! I was just telling Jessica how amazing you are in bed," Dean smirked. Wait, what? Sam dropped the rose as his mouth parted in horror— He did what!

Jessica giggled, while Sam blushed. This couldn't be good.

"Sam, why did you agree to go on a date with me if you're gay?" Jessica pouted. "Dean tells me that you're actually looking for a girl to go shopping with."

"Jessica, he's ly—"

"And you should see his closet," Dean added, "so many sexy panties and lingeries." He winked towards Jessica.

After an awkward conversation of trying— and failing— to convince that Dean was lying, Jessica left the restaurant. She kissed Sam's cheek and padded away with a disappointed expression, leaving Sam and Dean alone.

No... Sam lost his chance of finding love again.

Sam glared at Dean. "You're an asshole! What the fuck, Dean? Why were you telling her about my sex life?

Dean shrugged, then grabbed some fries from his plate that he ordered a while ago. Dean was the only one who got a meal since the two supposed dates lost their appetite. Sam just got water with a slice of lemon since he needed something to fumble with, being near Dean was making him feel queasy— not sure it was because of the embarrassing nonsense Dean said or because he still loved him. Probably both.

"How did you even know I was going to be here?" Sam inquired.

"Lucky guess," Dean lied. He glanced away while munching on his food. Sam scowled as he pushed Dean's plate away. He knew that look from anywhere. Dean was hiding something from him.

"Dean," Sam warned.

"Remember that time you logged into my Facebook?" Dean scratched the back of his neck as he nervously smiled. "Well, uh, you never logged out."

Sam's mouth parted, not believing what he was hearing. "And what? You've been stalking me? Log out of my Facebook, Dean!"

Dean huffed. "Look. I really needed to talk to you, Sam. You wouldn't fucking give me the time of the day—"

"Seriously? After what you did!" Sam crossed his arms. "I shouldn't even give you a minute!"

Dean winced. "I'm sorry. I was a fucking dumbass. Losing you was my number one mistake... and I want you to know—" No, no, no. Sam needed to get away from him. He didn't want to hear what Dean was going to say next. He couldn't. Not when he finally got over him. At least that was what he had thought.

He quickly rose and paced towards the exit, not daring to turn around. Sam could hear Dean's footsteps from behind, prompting Sam to pick up the pace. Dean called him, "Sam! Wait!"

Sam didn't listen. He fumbled to get his keys from his pocket, metal biting into his palm as he tried to open the car door. Sam's heart was racing, threatening to burst if he didn't get away from Dean.

Suddenly, Sam was spun around by his ex-boyfriend, who now wore a pissed off expression. Sam's lips quivered and then began to cry in front of Dean. This was why he couldn't handle being near him, so many emotions washed over Sam. Dean's anger faded as he saw Sam sob.

"Sam..." Dean's voice wavered.

"What do you want?" Sam weakly shouted. "I'm trying to forget about you. You really broke my heart, Dean." Sam angrily rubbed his face and looked away. He sniffled, then tensed when Dean touched his shoulder, gently.

"And I'm going to fucking regret it for the rest of my life," Dean said, voice breaking. "Please give me another chance. I love you. It took you to leave for me to realize that my life is meaningless without you. I can't imagine you dating anyone else. I know it sounds fucking selfish but it's the truth."

Sam shook his head. "Please just go away. I-I can't. Not right now."

"If you really want me out of your life... just tell me. I won't ever bother you again, Sam. I never met to hurt you like this. I'll do whatever you want. Just say the word." Dean didn't want to be apart from Sam, however seeing Sam broken was the last thing he ever wanted to do. And it was his fault. How Dean wanted to punch himself in the face right now.

Sam didn't want that, as much as it pained him, he didn't want Dean out of his life. He still loved him. Nothing would change that. "Can I sleep with you? My place gets cold in the middle of the night."

Maybe he could give Dean a second chance.

Dean let out a small gasp; hope in his eyes. "Sure. You're more than welcome. You can stay as longest you want. I'll take the couch— Hell, I'll even sleep on the floor if you tell me to."

Sam sniveled. "I couldn't ask you to do that, Dean. You can sleep beside me. I don't mind... but it'll take a while for things to be the same."

"And I wouldn't have it any other way," Dean stated, gently holding Sam's hand, "I'll wait forever if I have to." And Sam believed him.


End file.
